


Stanley Uris Definitely Hates Richard Tozier

by Lisabet



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: A little bit of angst, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, But I tagged it anyway, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mild Homophobic Language, Smut, also they're 16 so they're only underage in some places, eddie isn't a homophobe he's just ignorant, like a tiny bit, vague mentions of adhd, vague mentions of ocd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 09:36:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12861783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisabet/pseuds/Lisabet
Summary: Stanley Uris hated Richard Tozier. He was rude, crass, loud, and obnoxious, and those were on his good days.Despite all of this, Stanley and Richie were best friends.But he definitely still hated Richie! For sure. Even though they had protected each other while facing down a killer clown, and Richie had been the only one to show up to Stanley’s Bar Mitzvah. Yeah, no, they definitely still hated each other.They were 14 years old, and Stanley Uris was in love with Richard ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier.





	1. Un

Stanley Uris hated Richard Tozier. He was rude, crass, loud, and obnoxious, and those were on his good days. Stanley couldn’t exactly blame Richie for the amount of energy he had pent up any more than he could blame himself for straightening the shoes that sat by the front door at other people’s houses, or for counting every step he walked down. But it never stopped him in any situation. Richie just couldn’t help himself the same way Stanley couldn’t, but that didn’t stop Stanley from finding both opposite sides of the spectrum annoying as hell. 

Despite all of this, Stanley and Richie were best friends. For a long time, Stanley told himself that they were only friends by association, because Bill and Eddie were friends with both of them. But that hadn’t been true in a long time, if it had ever been true at any point. Stanley wasn’t so sure of himself anymore.

But he definitely still hated Richie! For sure. Even though they had protected each other while facing down a killer clown, and Richie had been the only one to show up to Stanley’s Bar Mitzvah. Yeah, no, they definitely still hated each other. 

Sometimes though, Stanley would look at Richie and think about how much he had changed in the past year. He was just as loud and obnoxious, but he had his quiet, pensive moments. And physically, he’d changed even more noticeably; he seemed to have grown into his teeth and ears and face. He was tall and slim, in an awkward, yet still attractive way. His face lost its baby fat, his cheekbones protruding and drawing attention to himself. His hair was unruly and long, but looked purposefully so. Richie would deny spending any time on it though. His thick-framed glasses had been replaced by something a bit more innocuous; more subtle, despite the thickness of his lenses. His mouth, when it wasn’t in constant motion, was gorgeous. His lips were pink and lush and kissable. 

They were 14 years old, and Stanley Uris was in love with Richard ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier. 

**

“Stan the Man! What’s shaking?” Richie asked, walking into school on the first day of their last year of middle school. His face had a smudge of either dirt or chocolate, and his t-shirt was torn on the sleeve.

Stanley had been at school for 40 minutes already. He just rolled his eyes at Richie’s lack of punctuality. “I don’t know how to respond to that, Richie.”

“I’m just asking how you’re doing, what you’re up to, that kind of thing. Wake up to the new decade’s slang!” He slung his arm over Stanley’s shoulders. Stanley pulled a wet wipe from his backpack and began wiping the dirt/chocolate from his face. 

“Honestly Trashmouth, I have no idea how you manage to make a mess of yourself so early in the morning.”  
He looked up to hear Richie’s response and found that they were much closer than Stanley realized. And Richie was already looking at Stanley’s face. 

“Stan, I don’t know what to tell you,” he said, slowly, not looking away from Stanley’s eyes, his face serious. And then the look melted away and he was grinning from ear to ear. “It’s a talent.”

Bill found them then, slapping Richie’s shoulder good-naturedly and waving at Stanley.

“I have an idea,” he said.

“Did it hurt?” Richie asked. 

Bill continued like he hadn’t heard Richie. “Carla Sardanos is having a ‘New School Year’ party on Friday. We should go.”  
“That’s a fucking fantastic idea, Big Bill!” Richie exclaimed. 

Stanley shook his head profusely. “I’m not going to go to some random girl’s house full of stupid, drunk people, just so Trashmouth can get trashed and throw up on me.”

“Stan the Man! You’re the one who needs to loosen up the most! You need this more than anyone!” Richie said. 

“Definitely not. I don’t drink.”

“You haven’t y-yet, b-but that doesn’t mean you sh-shou-shouldn’t,” Bill interjected. 

“Bill! Not you to!”

“Stan, if it makes you feel better, Mike will come and he and I can stay totally sober. Look after the rest of you.” Richie looked entirely sincere, but Stanley didn’t know if he could trust that. 

“You, Trashmouth Tozier, are going to go to a party and not drink?” 

“Yes! I’ll do it just for you, Stan.”

“Thanks,” Bill said sarcastically. “I feel lov-loved.”

“Sorry, Big Bill, I know you need the loving since Bev left, and you’ve got no one to get your rocks off with, but Stanley here needs it more! Ooh, maybe we can find a nice girl to suck his uncircumcised cock for him!”

“Richie! What the-” Stanley cut himself off before he swore, his cheeks heating up. He definitely didn’t want to listen to Richie talk about his penis. 

“What?” Richie asked defensibly. “There’s nothing wrong with being uncut! In fact, I’ll do it myself just to compare. Gotta see if his dick is as pretty as his face.”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie said, walking up behind Bill. 

“That’s p-pretty fucking gay, Rich.”  
“Yeah, even for you,” Eddie added. 

Stanley didn’t say anything. He could feel the blush going all the way down his neck. The bell for first period rang, and the party/blow job conversation was postponed. In the end, the Losers decided to go to the party. Even Stanley was convinced to go, after Mike and Ben both said they’d go and keep Richie sober. They also decided that going back to Richie’s house after would be best, as Bill and Ben’s parents would get upset about the drinking, and definitely tell Stanley’s parents. Mike’s farm was just too far away, Richie’s was much closer. 

Stanley had never been inside of Richie’s house before. 

If the outside was anything to go off of, it would be unkempt and messy on the inside. If Richie was anything to go by, it would be a total disaster. 

**

True to his word, Richie didn’t drink. Stanley did. A lot. He was very drunk. 

His face was flushed and warm, and his head felt fuzzy. He just wanted to tell Richie that his freckles looked really nice against his pale skin. And he did so, many times. 

After the fifth time, Richie just laughed. 

“Don’t laugh, Richard! You need to know!” Stanley complained. 

“Thanks, Stan the Man. I’ll keep it in mind,” Richie said, smiling and putting his arm around Stanley’s shoulders. Stanley leaned into his chest. 

“You’re just really pretty, Richie,” he mumbled. 

“I think it’s about time we headed home.”

“No!” He whined. 

“We’re just gonna go back to my house!” 

Stanley nodded, and they rounded up the rest of the Losers. 

Eddie rode on the back of Ben’s bike, Bill on the back of Mike’s, and Stanley on the back of Richie’s. His arms were holding tightly around Richie’s surprisingly toned stomach. 

Another surprise was that Richie’s house was not a disaster. And his parents weren’t even there. 

“Away for the weekend,” Richie explained, waving his hang noncommittally. 

The six of them settled in the living room with blankets and pillows all over the floor, the coffee table pushed right up in front of the TV to make room. Mike put on Ghostbusters while Richie picked up ten to fifteen empty bottle of alcohol and threw them into kitchen, only to return with chips and popcorn and soda. 

Stanley wondered through his alcohol-fuzzed brain whether Richie’s parents were ever home; he never talked about them. 

“Rich. Are you sad?” Stanley asked. 

Richie just pat Stanley’s shoulder, and he helped him to his room, to put him in pyjamas. “Why would I be sad, when I’m here with you, Stan?” 

“Because your parents aren’t here.”

“But that’s the reason you’re allowed to be here right now,” Richie replied after cringing but brushing it off.

“But they don’t seem like they care about you. I’ve never even heard you talk about them getting you in trouble.”

Richie sighed, sat Stanley down on his bed, and ran his hands over his face. 

“Let’s get you into some PJs.”

“Why are you ignoring my question?”

“Why do you even care?” Richie snapped. 

“Because I care about you, Trashmouth.” 

Richie just stood in front of Stanley on the bed, eyes searching for something. Stanley knew what, but if he’d been sober he probably would’ve been denying it. Sober him wouldn’t believe that Richie could feel the same way, but he was looking at Richie’s searching eyes with wonder and he wanted to know what Richie’s lips felt like. 

So Stanley stood up, albeit slightly wobbly on his legs, and he kissed Richie. He made a noise of surprise and then gently pushed Stanley away. 

“Before you start doing that stupid movie-cliche thing where you think I don’t like you back, I want you to know that I’m only not kissing you because you’re drunk. I know that you like me. I had a feeling before tonight, but drunk you is really affectionate, so I’m going to assume my hunch was correct. I want to kiss you so badly, trust me. Like, sooo badly. But I won’t tonight.” 

“That’s why I like you, Trashmouth,” Stanley whispered, sitting back on Richie’s bed. “You’re a fucking gentleman.”

“Who’s the Trashmouth now, Uris?” 

They both laughed, then Richie helped Stanley change into his pyjamas, and then they laid down beside each other in Richie’s twin bed, and fell asleep. 

**

When Stanley woke up, his head hurt behind his eyes. But his head was also laying on something solid and comfortable; Richie’s chest. Everything that had happened the night before replayed in his head, and he looked at Richie’s face, only to find Richie already looking at him. 

“Morning fucko,” he said, smiling. 

Stanley groaned and buried his face in Richie’s chest. 

“I wanna kiss you really badly,” Richie continued. “So we’re both gonna go brush our teeth.” 

Stanley’s stomach clenched in happiness. He just nodded.

When the two of them were back sitting on Richie’s bed, tasting like mint, Richie turned to Stanley and said, “I hope you know that I have really fucking strong feelings for you.”

“What the hell is happening to you, Richie? You’re being so mature and responsible lately,” Stanley teased. But then he looked at his hands and added, “But, yeah. I feel the same.”

“May I kiss you?” 

Stanley nodded again, but then he didn’t wait for Richie; he moved forward and put their lips together. Instantly, Richie reacted, cupping a hand against Stanley’s cheek, and another lightly brushing his chin with the tips of his long fingers. 

A shiver ran down Stanley’s spine. He didn’t really know what to do with his hands, so he put them on Richie’s skinny waist. 

Stanley was 14 years old, and he was in love with Richie Tozier. And they were making out. Richie’s tongue was in Stanley’s mouth, and Stanley had a boner. 

Fuck. 

“Rich,” he panted, pulling away with a wet sound. 

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” 

“No, no! I mean, kind of…”

“Stan the Man, I’m not following.”

“We just need to… slow things down a little bit.”

Richie looked down at Stanley’s crotch and then grinned. 

“Shut up,” Stanley grumbled.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You were about to though.”  
“Look, look Stanley. I know I talk about sex a lot, but I’m not actually…” Richie trailed off, twisting his lips. 

“I get it! Rich, I feel the same. You’re… incredible. But that can wait. We’re fourteen, there’s no need to rush any of this.” 

Richie smiles sheepishly, and then said, “I’m glad we’re on the same page. And… you’re incredible as well. I want you to know that I wanna be your boyfriend, and I get that we can’t really be like normal boyfriends, because people aren’t super okay with gay people, or whatever we are, I don’t even really think I’m totally gay, I still like girls, and I… I’m rambling because I’m nervous, but this is me trying to ask you to be my boyfriend.”

Stanley leaned forward and pressed his lips against Richie’s once again. “I’d really, really like that. But yeah, let’s not tell anyone yet.” “Not even the Losers?” Richie asked. 

“If that’s okay, yeah…” 

“Yeah, that's fine. Can I tell Bev tho? She's known about my crush on you for ages.” 

Stanley smiled for what felt like the millionth time that morning already. He nodded and let his lips brush lightly against Richie’s. “Alright, lets go make some food for the rest of the boys.” 

**

They ended up going to the store and getting all the thing they needed for pancakes and getting back to the house before any of the boys were up (other than Mike, who was awake and back at the farm by 5 am). It was noon by the time they woke up Bill and Eddie with the smell of bacon and pancakes and syrup. 

“Where did you guys go last night?” Ben asked. “I thought we were supposed to sleep in the blanket nest together!”

“Sorry Benny boy,” Richie grinned. “I was busy taking advantage of a certain very drunk Jewish boy. Turns out his dick is even prettier than his face.”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Stan said with a deep pink blush across his cheeks. 

“Now, while Eddie and Bill slept off their hangovers,” Richie continued, like Ben hadn't asked his question, “Stanley and I made breakfast.”

“I definitely did-didn’t sleep it off,” Bill groaned. He shovelled food into his mouth with his head in his other hand. 

“That’s disgusting,” Eddie said, watching Bill eat. “And yeah, I didn’t even drink that much, why am I so hungover?” “Because you have a tiny little body. You’re compact and hot like an Italian sports car,” Richie was speaking with his mouth full of food.

“You’re making me gag for more than one reason, Trashmouth.” 

Stanley was feeling ridiculously content, until Ben said, “Did you hear about that gay guy who was killed on Dairy Avenue?”

“I didn’t even know there were queers in Derry. Too small,” Eddie said. 

“There are gay people everywhere, Eds,” Richie said, his voice tense, but Stanley was the only one who noticed. 

“Don’t call me that.”  
“Queer b-bashing even happens in New York City, of course it’s gon-gonna happen here too,” Bill sighed. 

“Maybe he had AIDS,” Eddie interjected. 

“I don't think so,” Ben said.

“But he was gay, gay guys are getting it all the time these days. Did you hear about my mom’s friend in New York who-”

“Yes, Eddie! We all heard about it! Now can we stop fucking talking about this!” Stanley snapped. 

From under the kitchen table, he felt something touching his hand. It was Richie’s fingers, brushing against the back of Stanley’s hand. Soothing. 

“Geez, Stan the Man, I know Eddie Spaghetti is annoying, but there’s no need to yell,” he said instead. “I didn’t take you for a homophobe.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Rich,” Stanley rolled his eyes. 

**

“I’m really sorry, Stanley,” was the first thing Richie said to him when they got to school on Monday morning. 

“For what?” 

“I didn’t stand up for you. The guys were being assholes, and I didn’t say anything.”

“But you did. You’re the reason the subject changed, and I’m really grateful for that. Plus you subverted the conversation when I was being too obvious, getting all upset about what Eddie was saying.”

“Still. I’m sorry you had to deal with that at all. They really were being assholes.”

“I know. But it’s just something I’m going to have to learn to deal with. People aren’t exactly nice to queers.”

“Please don’t call yourself that,” Richie said, softly touching Stanley’s hand. 

“I don’t think I mean it as a bad thing. I’m okay with being gay. I think my parents will be okay with it. I don’t know how the rest of the Losers will react, but we can cross that bridge when - or if - we get to it. I kinda like the word queer, anyway. Gay seems too final.”

“Do you like girls too? I just realized I never asked you,” Richie said. 

“Yeah, girls are cool. I think I like boys better, but there’s no denying that girls are freaking gorgeous.”

“Who’s gorgeous?” Eddie asked, walking up behind Stanley, startling him a little. Richie discreetly made sure they weren’t touching at all, letting his weight fall onto his other foot, moving slightly farther away.

“We’re obviously talking about Mrs. Kaspbrak. What a fine piece of ass, am I right Stan the Man?”

“I fucking hate you, Richie, you’re the worst,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes and shoving Richie even farther away from Stanley. 

“Hey Eds-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry, it’s just… can I ask you something? It’s a serious question.”

“Rich, what are you-” Stanley started to say. 

“Trashmouth, being serious? I never thought I’d see the day.”

“No, really, Eddie.”

“Okay,” Eddie said, if slightly apprehensive. 

“Do you have a problem with gay people? Because I know you didn’t actually say anything bad the other day, but you didn’t sound thrilled about the idea, and I just need to know,” Richie said, and then drew his bottom lip into his mouth, chewing nervously. 

Eddie was silent for a moment, his lips parted slightly. “I… I mean, my mom has always talked about it being… dirty and wrong, and the whole AIDS thing really has her freaked out, which has me kinda freaked out… but I don’t know. I guess I hadn’t really spent that much time thinking about it.”

“Well, think about it. What would you think if one of your friends was gay?” Richie asked. 

“I don’t know, I think I could get used to it, but it doesn’t really matter, because I don’t know any gay people.”

Stanley’s shoulders tightened, and he immediately felt Richie tense up beside him. “I’m gay, Eddie.”

Eddie was silent again. And then he said, “You’re just fucking with me, right? It’s a joke? A classic Trashmouth prank?”

“No, you fucking asshole, I’m fucking gay, and if you have a problem with that, then we’re gonna have a fucking problem,” Richie was whispering furiously, making sure no one overheard. “You’re one of my best friends, Eds, but I can’t be friends with someone who isn’t okay with who I am as a person. This isn’t changing and it isn’t going anywhere.”

Stanley took a deep breath and put his hand on Richie’s shoulder. “Rich…”

“Okay!” Eddie interrupted. “Richie, I love you like a brother, and if this is who you are, then I’ll figure it out. Okay? It isn’t going to be a problem.”

“Promise?” Richie whispered again, his voice shaking.

Eddie nodded and pulled Richie into a hug. “Yeah, I promise. I’m so fucking sorry I made you feel like this.”

The bell rang for them to go to class, and the two boys broke apart, and they all went their separate ways. But not before Richie and Stanley’s eyes met, and Stanley saw so much relief. He was pretty sure things were going to be okay. 

**

The Losers were all sitting in a circle in Bill’s backyard a couple days later. Richie had a bruise forming on his temple from where one of Bowers’ old lackeys had hit him with an elbow. Stanley’s palms were scraped from falling on the pavement after being pushed. Bill and Ben and Mike didn’t look much better, but Eddie looked the worst; he had a black eye and a split lip.

Peter had seen them walking out of school, and called them a ‘bunch of queers.’ 

Eddie had lost his shit and went after the three older bullies, screaming at them and punching Peter in the face. He’d gotten a few good hits in before Peter caught him in the eye and the mouth. The Losers all got involved, and the fight had to be broken up by a teacher. No one believed Peter when he said that 5’3” Eddie Kaspbrak with the fanny pack and asthma was the one to throw the first punch, so the Losers got off with one detention each, and then they congregated at Bill’s. 

“So… any reason you decided that today was a good day to try to get even?” Ben asked. 

“He called us queers,” Eddie said quietly. 

“And?” Bill asked. “They’ve done that a million times before.”  
“It’s just… different now.” 

“How s-so?”  
“Well, I guess now is as good a time as any!” Richie said, standing up. 

The Losers all looked at him in confusion. Stanley whispered his name and tugged lightly on his pant leg. 

“I’m gay! Well, not gay, I also like girls, but I’m a big old queer. Bev says the word for it is bisexual. I like tits and dick.” 

They all stared at Richie with wide eyes. 

“So… Eddie knew this?” Mike asked. 

“Yep. Stan and Bev know too.”

“Why do they know and we don’t?” Bill asked.

“Bev has known for over a year, because she doesn't live here and she was more removed than the rest of you. Eddie knows because I was afraid he was a homophobe, so I told him.”

“And Stan?” Mike asked. 

There was a second of hesitation in which Stanley’s heart clenched, but none of the others noticed it at all. After what felt like forever to Stanley, Richie finally said, “He found my porn.”

“Yep. It was really scaring,” Stanley said, his voice shaking slightly. “At his house on Friday. That’s why we were in his room for so long, we were talking, and then we just fell asleep.”

“None of us have said this yet, so I’m gonna make sure you know,” Ben started. “I’m really happy you told us, and I’m happy that you’re figuring out who you are and are comfortable enough to share it. And I love you, and I’m proud of you.”  
Bill and Eddie and Mike all joined in, in agreement. Stanley’s heart was clenching for a different reason, and Richie was beaming. His eyes watered slightly. 

“Alright, I lied!” Stanley exclaimed. 

“What are you talking ab-about?” Bill asked. 

“Well, technically Richie lied too. I didn’t find out about Richie being gay because I found his porn. He took me to his room to take care of me because I was really drunk, and I kissed him. Because I’m also gay. Or… queer, at least, I don’t know.”

The response was a lot more immediate this time, the Losers clapping Stanley on the back, Richie finally sitting down next to Stanley, putting his hand on his knee. Stanley looked up at him and they smiled sheepishly at each other. 

“So much for not telling the Losers, huh?” Stanley said. 

“You guys are dating?” Eddie yelled. “So the other day when we were talking about Richie and you were there the whole time, you guys were already dating?” 

Stanley just nodded and blushed. 

“I’m so happy for you!” Mike exclaimed.

“You guys aren’t going to be a super romantic, gross couple now, are you?” Ben asked teasingly, wrinkling up his nose. 

“Stan the Man, romantic?” Richie shouted. “No fucking way!”

“Gross? Definitely, with Trashmouth here.”

“To be p-perfectly honest,” Bill said. “I actually kinda thought you guys hated each other. Well, Stan for sure, at least. You guys are totally opposite.” 

Stanley just looked at Richie, but he was still just smiling warmly. 

“It kinda makes perfect sense though,” Bill continued. “The two of you as a couple, balancing each other out; Stanley bringing Richie back down to Earth and Richie getting Stan to loosen up.”

Richie intertwined his long fingers with Stanley’s, bringing their joined hands up to press a kiss against Stanley’s fingers. 

Ben shuddered and said, “Ugh, I was right.”


	2. Deux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sexy times and i love you's

Stanley Uris loved Richie Tozier. He was kind and funny and loving, and those were on his worst days. Stanley could spend every day with Richie and never get sick of holding his hand, or pressing kisses to his constantly moving lips. Stanley found that the best way to shut up the Trashmouth was to kiss him silent. 

They were 16 years old, and Stanley Uris wanted to tell Richard Tozier that he loved him. 

They had been dating for nearly two years. Stanley’s parents had known for the past few months, so their sleepovers became few and far between, but they still spent almost every day together. They went out on dates to the movies and the park, and Richie would sit somewhat quietly while Stanley looked at birds with his binoculars and wrote down the different species in his book. Those were Stanley’s favourite days; the sun would be beating down on their faces, and Richie would lean his head on Stanley’s shoulder while he read comic books, and then they’d walk to the cafe across the street and tease Bill in his apron and name tag, and order hot chocolate, even though it was hot enough outside to melt ice cream in seconds. 

Stanley thought about those moments all the time. 

He also thought about the moments when he was at Richie’s house, and his parents weren’t home, and his own parents thought he was at Bill’s for the night. They would kiss for hours on end, only pulling away to eat or sleep. But he thought about those moments in very specific places; like in bed alone, or in the shower.

They’d been dating for two years, and they had talked often about whether or not they were ready for sex. Richie had been ready since the night of their first anniversary, but Stanley wasn’t yet, so they talked it out, and Stanley decided he was ready for some things, but not everything. Richie ended up touching Stanley slowly and gently until stars exploded behind his eyes. A few months later, Stanley returned the favour, and they’d been doing that pretty regularly. Every now and then, Richie would get his mouth on Stanley, and Stanley liked to joke about it being the best way to shut him up. 

“I think I’m ready,” Stanley said one night, two weeks away from their second anniversary. 

“For what?” Richie asked, not looking at Stanley, continuing to putter around his bedroom, not quite tidying. 

“I think we should have sex.”

Richie fumbled with whatever was in his hand, dropping it on the ground with a loud clatter. He turned to look at Stanley. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. 

“I’m positive,” Stanley replied. He was sitting on Richie’s unmade bed, his back against the headboard, knees up, hands clasped together behind them, his toes tucked under the scratchy blanket. 

“Okay. Yeah,” Richie was blinking rapidly, moving to sit at the end of his bed. “When… when were you thinking?”

“Your parents are gone tonight,” Stanley shrugged. 

“You… you wanna have sex… tonight…here, in my bed…”

“Richie, are you short circuiting or something?”

“Yeah…” he said, like he wasn’t paying attention. “I mean, no! It’s just… I’ve been waiting for this for like, a year, and I can’t believe it’s actually happening. You’re sure?” 

“Yeah, Rich,” Stanley laughed. “I’m sure. I… I love you.” 

Richie’s eyes snapped up to meet Stanley’s. “Fuck, I love you too, Stan the Man. I love you so fucking much. I’m so happy you said it first.”

Richie and Stanley leaned forward at the same time, their lips drawing together. Stanley laid down, pulling Richie on top of him. 

“Wait, now?” Richie asked against Stanley’s lips. 

Stanley just hummed and said, “Why not?”

“Okay,” Richie mumbled. Neither of them wanted to break the kiss. 

Richie settled between Stanley’s knees, his hand’s gripping at his hair. Stanley could feel his heart pounding with anticipation as Richie’s hands moved down to grip at Stanley’s thighs. He let his fingers tangle in Richie’s messy curls, tugging lightly, pulling a moan from Richie’s mouth. He could feel the familiar stirring in his stomach, and he could feel Richie getting hard as well. Suddenly, Richie pulled back. 

“Wait!” He said, screwing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “We- we need to talk about this.”

“What about it?” Stanley asked.

“We need to sort out… the logistics.”

“You mean who’s doing the fucking and who’s getting fucked?”

“Jesus, Stanley, I think we’ve been spending too much time together,” Richie laughed. 

“Well, Rich,” Stanley said, leaning in to whisper in Richie’s ear, “I was kinda hoping I could fuck you.” 

A shiver ran down Richie’s spine and he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Stan, I’d like that.” 

Their lips came back together and they laid down on the bed, Stanley wrapping his legs around Richie’s waist. He drew Richie as close to him as possible, pressing their hips together, Richie’s hands on his thighs again, stroking gently. Richie moved his lips to Stanley’s neck, and he tried to keep his breath from coming too heavily. 

“God, Rich…” Stanley sighed, his eye’s rolling back, closing. “I wanna fuck you so badly. I wanna make you so hard and I wanna make you feel so good. I’m gonna make you cum harder than you ever have before.”

Richie groaned as he sucked a little harder at Stanley’s neck. “Stan… Jesus, you make me so fucking hard… I just want your fucking cock inside of me. I wanna feel you stretching me open cause you’re so fucking big… when I get my lips around your dick, it’s so incredible, I can’t get the whole thing in my mouth, but I’m gonna take your whole cock in my ass.”

They were grinding their dicks together through their jeans, and it just wasn’t enough anymore. So they scrambled out of their pants and boxers as quickly as possible, throwing their shirts away as well. 

“Stan, god, your dick is so pretty,” Richie groaned, pressing the length of their bodies together, kissing him hotly, desperately. “If you don’t get your fingers in my ass soon, I might cry.”

“Have you ever done this before?” Stan asked. “To yourself?”

Richie nodded. 

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Can I watch you do it now?”  
“You wanna watch me stretch myself open?” Richie asked, in a deep, slow voice, biting at his lip. 

Stan pulled lube and condoms out of his backpack beside Richie’s bed and gave them to his boyfriend. Richie rubbed some between his fingers and reached behind himself. He sat back on his heels, spreading his knees beneath him. His head fell back and his breathing sped up as he started fingering himself open. Stanley sat up to watch.

“You’re so fucking hot, Rich. I’ve never seen you so fucking needy. I can’t wait to get my dick into your perfect ass.” He reached a hand around Richie, his palm flat out against Richie’s moving hand, feeling as he slid in and out of himself. “Feel good?”

“Not as good as I will when you finally fuck me.” Richie could hardly get the words out. 

“Add another finger,” Stanley instructed. Richie complied, and Stanley let his other hand reach out to touch his boyfriend’s dick. “You’re so damn good for me, babe.”

Richie added another finger, and he was panting. He gasped silently. “You need to take your hand off my dick or this’ll be over real soon, Stan the Man.” 

“You touching that spot inside of you?”

“Yeah.” “I’m gonna hit that with the head of my cock, smash into over and over again until you’re fucking crying.”

“God, I need to you fuck me right now. I need you inside of me. Now.”  
“Yea, babe, fuck… anything for you.”

Stanley grabbed a condom from the box and ripped open the package as Richie continued to move his fingers inside himself. He got the condom on, and then Richie reached out with his free hand and stroked Stanley’s dick a couple times, and then took his fingers out. 

“Get on your back, babe,” Stan said sweetly. 

“No, you get on your back,” Richie replied. 

Stanley’s heart sped up and he nodded, lying down. Richie got his knees on either side of Stanley’s hips and put more lube on his hand. He spread it on Stanley’s dick, using his hand to guide it inside himself. 

Stanley held his breath as Richie slowly lowered himself, eyes screwed shut, breath coming in heavy pants.

“Take your time, babe, I want you to feel so good,” Stanley whispered. He let his fingers trace down his chest and stomach, touching his dick softly to distract him from the pain. 

When he was fully inside of Richie, he couldn't fucking breath. He ran his hands back and forth on Richie’s pale thighs, feeling the wiry hairs beneath his palms. And then Richie started moving, just slowly back and forth, side to side. Stanley had to bite his lips so hard to keep from coming right there. When he lifted his hips, and sunk back down, Stanley cried out.

“Babe, you feel so fucking hot and tight.”

Richie moaned in reply, breathing out, “Your cock feels so good. I could fucking do this all day.” 

He was moving faster now. Stanley sat up to bring their mouths together, kissing sloppily. His tight grip on Richie’s thighs gave him leverage as his snapped his own hips up to meet Richie’s in time. He brought Richie’s knees up onto his shoulder, opening him up further. Richie cried out at the new position, swears falling from his mouth. 

“Right there, god, right fucking there, Stanley. Oh my fucking god, fuck me harder. Harder, babe.”

Stanley listened, lifting Richie and setting him down on his back. “You look so fucking good, totally folded in half and taking my cock so well.”  
Richie was practically crying as Stanley was pounding into his ass steadily, quickly. Their mouths came together, but they weren’t really kissing, just breathing against each other hotly. 

“Babe… fuck, babe, you’re so hot, I’m gonna cum,” Stanley panted against his mouth. 

“Me too, fuck. Touch my cock.”

Stanley’s hand moved quickly over Richie’s cock between the two of them, his precum slicking the way. With a quiet whine, he was coming all over Stanley’s hand and his own stomach. 

“Keep going,” he demanded.

Stanley did as he was told and kept fucking into Richie for a few more moments before he was filling up the condom and breathing out Richie’s name. 

Stanley removed Richie’s legs from his shoulders and pulled out, getting rid of the condom. He threw it onto the floor somewhere, too fucked out to care, and then fell onto the small bed next to him. 

“That…” Richie trailed off, taking a couple deep breaths. 

“Yeah,” Stanley agreed, linking their hands together, fingers intertwined. 

“How did we manage to get turned around on the bed?” Richie chuckled, and then the two of them were having a full on giggle fit. 

When they finally both calmed down, they turned to face each other, bringing their lips together gently. 

“I love you, Richie,” Stanley breathed out. 

“I love you too, Stanley.”

They fell asleep that night, fingers interlocked and legs tangled together, smiles on their lips.

**Author's Note:**

> sexy times in the second chapter


End file.
